The Aftermath
by nanuka02
Summary: My take on what could've happened after episode 4x6 "Fault Lines" (spoiler alert!). Spike-centric, focuses on the relationship between Greg and Spike. No shipping, no slash, just friendships. Focuses on emotional hurt - how does Spike deal with Greg finding out the news about his dad? Also, Lou's death is still very raw for Spike. Trigger warning for dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

Greg sighed, gazing over at his team members. They'd had a rough day. Ed was silently fuming, his blue eyes staring coldly at Greg. Sam's fists were tightly clenched, his body stiff, and he and Jules kept shooting looks at each other. Wordy switched from staring at his hands to eyeing his teammates with a desolate look in his eyes.

And Spike - Spike was unusually quiet. He'd always spent the day cracking jokes, pulling pranks, and sweet-talking Babycakes, all with a huge grin on his face.

But Greg hadn't noticed much of any happiness surrounding the bomb tech lately. Ever since his meeting - _his interrogation_ , Greg corrected bitterly - with Toth that day, Spike's smile had disappeared altogether, replaced by a grave expression. Now, he was huddled over, fiddling with the bandage on his hand, looking ready to jump out his chair if Greg spoke for too long.

"Alright, look guys, I know this was a tough debriefing. I think Toth pushed us all to our limits today, but I want everyone to know that whatever happens, I'm proud of you, of all of you. And you should be proud of yourselves too, because you push yourselves everyday, and this city is lucky to have you protecting it."

Jules immediately leaned forward, arms on the table as she frowned at Greg. "Whatever happens? Boss, you didn't do anything wrong. You're a wonderful sergeant. Toth was just being Toth."

Spike snorted. "Yeah, not even Babycakes would like him," he grumbled.

"He's just doing his job, Spike," Greg sighed.

Wordy scoffed. "Really? It's his _job_ to attack us all personally? And for what, to get to you? Make us try to turn against you?" He shook his head, put his hands underneath the table. "Well, it's not gonna work. I'm on your side, Boss. I believe in you." Nods and murmurs of agreement went around the table.

Greg put up his hands, motioning for them to settle down. "Alright guys, thanks for the support," he said, nodding at Jules and Wordy. "But I did what I did and I take full responsibility for it. Now, that's enough of that talk for now. Now go, get home to your families and beds. If any of you need to talk, please do not hesitate to call me or Ed, or each other. We need to lean on each other, but we'll get through this. As a team."

As soon as he stopped talking, Spike shoved his chair back, giving his boss a questioning look. Greg nodded at Spike, who rushed out of the room, letting the door slam behind him. Greg looked at his team. Everyone looked a bit surprised at Spike's rather abrupt way of leaving, Jules and Wordy glancing over at the door as if they expected Spike to peak out at any moment now.

Greg sighed. "Alright, guys, give us a minute, okay? I wanna talk to Spike. Jules, you can go ahead to the locker room and change."

Jules simply folded her arms, sitting up straighter in defiance. "Thanks, Boss," she said, without looking up. "I'm good here."

Greg stood up. "Okay then," he said with a nod. After a pause, he turned around, heading for the men's locker room.

* * *

When Jules mentioned Toth's name, Spike immediately stiffened, gritting his teeth. "Yeah, not even Babycakes would like him," he muttered. _And that's the polite way of putting it_. Other members of the team chimed in, but Spike could no longer focus on their words.

He couldn't shake away the image of Lou stepping off the landmine. Of course, he hadn't actually seen it - he'd been dumb enough not to see through Lou's protective, selfless nature, not to realize that his friend would never have let him try the weight transfer. _I don't see why. It would've worked,_ Spike thought angrily. _I could have saved him, if only he'd have let me._

Suddenly the silent roar that had started between his ears sometime during with his meeting with Toth became almost unbearable. He heard his boss say something about going home to family, and he nearly emitted a bitter laugh.

Sure, he'd go home to family - to a father who could barely stand the sight of him, to a mother who was at her wit's end, to the horrifying truth that his last words to his father could be ones that he'd regret for the rest of his life.

Spike felt his throat tighten, and his eyes were becoming dangerously watery. He couldn't stay here for any longer. He couldn't let the team see him like this.

He shoved back his chair and looked at Greg pleadingly, asking permission to leave the room. Greg nodded solemnly, and Spike, relieved, jumped up and yanked open the door, not bothering to wait long enough to keep it from slamming.

* * *

Greg slowed as he approached the locker room. He hoped that Spike didn't feel that Greg like he was intruding, but he had to make sure that Spike was okay.

He opened the door to find Spike, still in full uniform, leaning over Lou's locker, breathing heavily, body trembling. He immediately went over to Spike, making sure to give him a bit of space. "Spike? Buddy, what's going on? You don't look so good."

Spike turned his head, and Greg could see tears streaming down his face, beads of sweat lining his forehead. But more concerning, his chest was heaving, and Greg could see that he was having trouble catching his breath. _He's having a panic attack._

"Boss," Spike gasped. "He's - He's gone." Spike sank down heavily to the floor, with Greg grabbing his arm to support his fall. He looked up at Greg with wet, unfocused eyes, his breathing frantic and uneven. He clawed at his vest, and Greg could see the panic rising in him.

"He's gone, he's gone, he's _gone,_ Spike whispered. _Oh, Spike_. Greg firmly took Spike by the shoulders.

"Spike, I see you're having trouble breathing buddy. I need you to breathe, okay?" Spike just continued his mantra, seemingly unaware that Greg had spoken. Unfazed, Greg continued.

"Spike, I'm going to help you take this off, okay? Take some pressure off, let you breathe a little easier," Greg said as he quickly undid the velcro on Spike's Kevlar vest. Greg helped Spike bring the vest through his arms, placing it on the bench beside them.

"Okay, slow breaths, Spike. C'mon, breathe with me - in, out. In, out. Good." They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Spike's breathing became less sporadic. Spike begin to slump down, shaking harder now, and Greg pulled Spike into a hug.

"I'm tired, Boss," Spike's muffled voice said.

"I know, Spike. I know. I gotcha, buddy. I've got you."

"I can't do this anymore. I don't want to," Spike said.

Greg's stomach sank, and he felt a chill throughout his body. "What do you mean, buddy?"

Spike shook his head. "I know Ma will be disappointed, and maybe Pa will hate me for hurting Ma." He pushed away from Greg, suddenly not wanting to be touched, not feeling deserving of that comfort. _Lou didn't get that comfort_.

Spike pulled himself up, using the bench for leverage, and began pacing the room. Greg got up as well, watching Spike with his arms slightly out, as if he were afraid Spike was about to fall.

Spike took in a shaky breath. "But I think he already hates me. And Ma, I don't know, I can't help her. I'm not enough, I'm never enough!" Spike shouted.

Greg shook his head vigorously, stepping forward and squeezing Spike's shoulder. "Spike, that's not true. You're a wonderful officer, a loving son -" Greg began.

Spike cut him off, whipping his head around to turn to Greg, eyes narrowed. Greg's eyes flittered to Spike's right hand, which was rested on his holster.

"Spike," Greg warned.

"You don't know what kind of son I am," Spike gritted out. "How could you? You don't know what goes on when I go home everyday." Spike shrugged off Greg's hand angrily, walking past him.

"Buddy, I hear you, I do. I understand that your dad is sick, that he's really sick. I'm really sorry to hear about that, Spike. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that is for you," Greg said.

Spike whirled around, walking towards Greg and angrily jabbing a finger at his chest. " _You_ don't get to talk about my dad," he seethed. "You didn't even know that he was sick. Nobody did! That _bastard_ Toth had to find out, and you just sat there, not knowing, Boss." His voice began to break.

"How did you not know that something was wrong?" Spike asked, a look of desperation on his face.

Spike stared at Greg with such an intensity that Greg nearly flinched, wanted to step away from Spike, but he knew that would be a wrong move. Greg felt helpless. Spike was right, of course - how was it that none of the team had noticed that Spike was struggling? How had _he_ not noticed?

"I - Spike, I'm sorry. I should have noticed that something was wrong. I should've -"

"But you didn't." Spike's words reverberated through the room. "You failed me, just like we failed Lou, just like I failed Mac." A tear slid down his cheek. "We failed him, Boss." Spike slowly lifted up his right hand, noting the cold metal against his flushed skin. "I failed him."

Images of the people he'd lost filled his head: Mac, bleeding out, barely able to breathe, making Spike promise to take care of his daughter Leslie. He vividly remembered the awful moment when the team realized that Lou had stepped on a landmine, the terror that he'd felt when Lou had lifted up his foot.

 _And now, I'm about to lose Pa. I've failed everybody who matters most to me._ Spike squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the painful memories, his heart racing.

Greg felt his heart pounding, hoping that his training would keep his voice even. "Spike," Greg said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Spike, put down the gun."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Forgot to add this in the first chapter, but I don't own anything - which is too bad, because Flashpoint has some really great characters. Also, thanks so much for the support of everyone who has liked, followed, reviewed, or favorited this story! Special thanks to Penguin201, gryffen1, missblueeyes63, and to Guest for their reviews. (Please read the end of the last chapter again, because I made some tweaks - thanks, Guest, for the reminder that Spike would also have been dealing with Mac's death :) I'm glad that Toth didn't bring that up, too.)

Also! To pyrrho, the author of the wonderfully crafted story "Opposite the Sun" (highly recommend this one to Spike fans!) - thank you! Not only do I keep reading your story from time to time, but I was actually inspired a bit by your 19th chapter in the sort of hysteria that Spike experienced. I don't think I portrayed that very well, and doubt you are even reading this, but in case you do, thank you! You should be proud of your work. :) (Seriously, guys, go read that story!)

Sorry this is getting out quite a bit later than I'd hoped; it was actually pretty hard to write this because I had to be in a certain mindset while writing this, and it wasn't exactly a fun place to be. But, I had to get it out, and so here it is! Please feel free to add any suggestions for continuing; I plan to do perhaps one final chapter, but we'll see how it goes.

Continued reviews and suggestions are welcomed and highly appreciated (I get a little too giddy when I get the email alerts...)

* * *

The team sat in the conference room, the mood solemn. Jules turned to Ed.

"They've been gone for awhile now, Ed. Don't you think that we should go check on them, make sure Spike's okay?" she asked.

"He sure didn't look okay," Sam said quietly. "Did you see his face before he left?"

"Yeah, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse," Wordy said.

Ed held up his hands to quiet everyone down. "Alright, gang, here's the deal. _I'll_ go check on Spike, see if Greg needs a little reinforcement. You guys stay here, hold down the fort."

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled back his chair. "Yeah, right, Ed. We're coming with you."

Jules stood. "I'm with Sam. Why should we just sit on our hands in here? That's not helping Spike.

"They're right, Ed," Wordy said, arms folded.

Ed shook his head. "Alright, but give me a few minutes with Spike and the boss first," he said. The four walked out of the room and down the hallway to the locker room.

* * *

As the team approached the locker room, they could hear Spike's angry voice.

"How did you not know that something was wrong?" Spike sounded hurt. Ed frowned, glancing back to see Wordy, Sam, and Jules staring back at him, looking as concerned as he felt. Ed paused when he heard Greg's voice.

"I - Spike, I'm sorry. I should have noticed that something was wrong. I should've -" Greg stammered.

"But you didn't," Spike said.

Ed frowned. He didn't like where this conversation seemed to be headed.

"You failed me, just like we failed Lou, just like I failed Mac," Spike continued, his voice breaking. "I _failed_ them, Boss."

There was a pause before he heard Greg's voice, uncannily shaky. "Spike," Greg said. "Spike, buddy, put the gun down."

Ed heard Jules gasp softly behind him.

"We gotta go in, Ed," Wordy said softly.

Ed nodded, taking in a sharp breath. "Alright guys, here's the plan." Ed said quietly. "I'll try to talk down Spike, Jules, you're my second. Wordy, make sure Winnie knows we're not taking any calls. And Wordy, Sam," he said. Sam frowned, sensing what Ed was about to say. "I'm going to need you to back me up." Sam shook his head in frustration, jaw tense.

Jules looked up at Ed in disgust. "Ed, no. What you're asking them to do is - "

"Necessary," Ed said, cutting Jules off. "Look, we don't have a lot of time here. Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Copy that," he bit out.

Ed nodded. "Wordy?" he asked.

Wordy frowned. "I'm not pulling a gun on him, Ed," he said. "I should go tell Winnie."

Ed sighed and turned back to Sam and Jules. "Alright, nice and careful. Spike's in a real volatile state right now, we don't wanna set him off."

* * *

Spike stood there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. _Why should I put the gun down? Why shouldn't I die? I failed to protect Mac, couldn't get there fast enough to keep him from getting shot. I couldn't protect Lou - I should've been faster with that weight transfer. I shouldn't have let him move his foot. Why did he move his foot?_ _We should've both walked out of there. Boss said that I'm a good son, but I don't deserve that. I don't deserve to live, why should I live?_

A knock on the door disrupted his thoughts, and Spike lifted up his head, opening his eyes.

"Spike, it's Ed and Jules. We're gonna come in a minute and talk, okay?" Ed said, and nodded at Jules. The door slowly opened and Ed walked in with his hands up, Jules hovering behind him. Ed was disturbed to see Spike with tears running down his cheeks, still holding the gun to his temple.

Spike frowned. "Ed, Jules? What are you two doing here?"

"We just want to help you, Spike," Jules said. "We'd hate to see you hurt yourself." She took a step forward.

"That's good, Jules," Spike said, "because I'm not going to hurt myself."

Ed nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, buddy."

Spike laughed, grinning at Ed, his eyes wild. "Yeah, I'm not going to hurt myself. I'm going to kill myself." Spike closed his eyes and leaned back still laughing, lowering his arm and wiggling the gun around, making sure not to point it at anybody else.

Ed and Greg exchanged worried glances, and Jules took another step forward while Spike wasn't looking. Although she was concerned with his growing hysteria, she did note that he'd lowered the gun from his head, and was hoping to disarm him.

Spike plopped himself on the bench, an almost gleeful expression on his face. "I'm going to kill myself. Isn't that funny, Jules?"

She frowned. "No, I don't think that's funny at all, Spike. I'm really concerned about you. Why do you want to kill yourself, Spike?"

He grew serious, opening his eyes to look at her. "I have to, Jules. I have to die so that no one else will." He slouched over, looking glum, and began to stare at the gun in his hands. "Maybe you should go," Spike mused. "You shouldn't have to watch this, Jules."

"Well I'm not going anywhere, Spike, not until I know that you're okay. Do you mind if I sit next to you on the bench?" Jules asked. Spike shrugged, and Jules took that as a yes, gingerly seating herself about a foot away from Spike.

"Spike," Jules said, leaning forward. "I think your parents would be pretty upset if you didn't come home tonight. They love you, Spike, and they'd miss you. _I'd_ miss you."

Spike scoffed. "They _love_ me?" He shook his head. "My dad hates me. He hates that I have this job and he won't let up until I quit or he dies. Whichever comes first. Except that if I quit, I'll hate myself."

"And if you don't quit, then your relationship is strained at best? That's a really tough situation, Spike," Jules offered, attempting to connect her eyes with his.

But he didn't look at her, just stared straight ahead, at Lou's old locker. "Yeah," he said, his voice raw. "Ma hates the whole thing. Says I'm just being stubborn and selfish and that I'm putting -" Spike paused to make air quotes with his hands - " _unnecessary burden_ on my dad, on the family. That I should just give my Pa what he needs. She says that he's just trying to protect me, but he doesn't _get it_. Nobody _gets_ it."

"Well, I'm not you, Spike, but I do hear that you're being put in an unfair situation. I hear that you're being asked to choose between the family you love and the job that helps define who are. And that's a lot to ask of anyone. But it's especially a lot to ask of a son."

Spike started laughing again. "That's good, Jules, that's real good. Did you get that from the Boss, Officer Callaghan?" He looked over at her, a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

Jules frowned, feeling herself lose control of the situation as Spike raised the gun once more. _This is not going well._ She took a deep breath. _Take control, Callaghan. This is Spike we're talking about._

"Spike, no one told me to say any of this. It's all come from my heart. Yes, we've all had training, but I care about you Spike, and I want to see you -." Before Jules could finish, Spike sprung off the bench, towering over her angrily.

Jules could feel her heart beating wildly inside her chest as she stood up as well. _At least he's lowered the gun again,_ Jules thought.

"What you want?" Spike screamed. "What _you_ want? This isn't a _bout_ you, Jules! This is my life." His face was red, and Jules could see the vein in his neck bulge. She nodded, hands held up slightly.

"You're right, Spike, absolutely. What do _you_ want, Spike?" Jules asked.

Spike's expression changed, from furious to determined, and suddenly Jules knew that she'd said the wrong thing. He smiled, a wild look in his eyes again.

"This is my life, Jules," he repeated. "And I'm going to end it."

Jules felt transported back to that awful moment when she knew that Lou wasn't going to ride back to the station with them, a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"No, Spike!" she screamed.

A loud bang echoed around the locker room. Jules stood there, shocked, vaguely aware of the warm substance splattered on her face and clothes. Gasping, she slowly looked down to see Spike laying motionless on the ground.

 _So much blood. So much blood._ Suddenly, her mind made the connection of what it was that she was covered with, and she looked down at her shoes to find that she was standing in it.


End file.
